


The Painter

by chandlerinabox



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, mentions of Armin, mentions of Mikasa - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:05:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10149575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chandlerinabox/pseuds/chandlerinabox
Summary: In my world of grey, I knew nothing of color. For the first 15 years of my life, grey was all I had known.My soul was an unlit candle, an unpainted canvas in which the painter's brushes never touched, yet I was not waiting.Then I met you.And now, your colors burn me.





	

~15~

For the first fifteen years of my life, all I had known was grey. 

Color was not known to me. In my vision, everything was grey-water, faces, eyes, everything. Young couples would walk through the door, hand in hand, giving us praise at the front desk for how lovely and vivid the flowers looked. At that time, I had never known people who could find a world so dull, so mesmerizing. 

Old couples would spend hours in the Inn’s back garden just painting, with their thin brushes and oval shaped pallets. They were always chattering on and on about ‘red’ and ‘blue’ and yet, all I saw, was grey.

 

That is, until I met you.  
Well, not at first.

But I still remember everything, when I first saw you standing on the porch.  
It had been raining for hours upon hours that day. I was on front desk, and customer after customer had been complaining about the drab weather. Despite my best to remain neutral, I had been starting to lose my patience. I wasn’t about to flip the desk or smash the front bell, but my sarcasm had begun to rise. My head was pounding. I wondered what other 15 year olds had been doing-spending time with their families, laughing, seeing color, not working at an inn for hours of the day. 

However I knew well enough that due to my circumstances that I was no normal 15 year old and that losing my temper in front of the customers would only cause more trouble than necessary. Erwin’s discipline did not cause me fear, but Petra and Hanje’s combined wrath did at the time. So I swallowed my pride and kept my posture.  
Eventually all of the customers retreated back to their rooms. For a moment, the small lobby was silent. For a few short minutes, all I heard was the rain.

Then a voice yelled out, snapping me out of my trance. Hanje stuck her head out from behind the arch leading to the parlor, and with boxes in her arms, nodded towards the door. “Guest reservations for 9 pm. Levi, could you get the door, please?” I began to nod, but she had already left.

As I began to walk towards the front doors, the ground around me started to shift. My balance began to derail, and the world started to way. Damn headaches. It was as if it were a horror movie, with my killer just around the corner. It was unusual, because I had nothing to fear, yet my palms were shaking. I reached for the doorknob, in hopes it would ease my mind, and turning it ever so slowly, I found myself face to face with my truest horror.

Well, not really. It was simply a couple standing on the porch. Instantly a sigh escaped my lungs and my balance returned to normal. I do take note of the particular looks on their faces-eyebrows scrunched, eyes narrowed, thinned lips. These were not happy campers.

“Come on in.” I say, as neutral as possible. Perhaps this sort of weather had brought dread to everyone. 

The woman, whose face was as thin as a paperclip and hair tied back in a frizzy lose bun spoke first. “If only you had fixed the car before we left, or else we wouldn’t be stuck here.” Her voiced crackled and I was reminded of nails on a chalkboard.

“Well,” the man, wearing a top spoke, “if you hadn’t taken so damn long on your hair, I would’ve had time to get it fixed. But no, you had to also hog the bathroom. I had to piss so bad too.” The man grunts, clearing his throat behind his hand. “Where’s the bathroom around here?” 

“This world is already so grey, and you just make it worse,” the woman scoffed. They both hurry in, throwing comments around in a snide manner. But it hit me- that couple, they found the world grey as well. That was the first time I had met a couple who hadn’t acknowledged colors. They were like me- they too only saw the world in one hue. Yet they seemed awfully unhappy, with each other, and with themselves. I remained in the door way, pondering this thought, until I heard a rustling noise from my right.

In the darkest of the night, the bush to my right rustled, its branches moved. From within, a figure stepped out, shaking, yet confident enough to reveal yourself.

It was you. 

You, the figure, stood up slowly. I stayed in my position, my body refusing to move. From there, you stood, water dripping from your hair, clothes in tatters, eyes bright than the-

Your eyes-

They are not grey.  
My head was hit with a tightening sensation, as my own eyes widen at the sight of you. With it, your eyes turn a shade of color I’d never seen before. All I could describe them as was bright. They were bright, even in the dark of night, brighter than any light I’d ever seen. They frolicked, curiosity flickering, emotions swirling around and around. I was reminded of water, yet I was at a loss for words. They were like nothing I had ever seen, nothing I could possibly dream of and nothing any mortal could possibly create. Your eyes widened, a fire lit-and the irises swirled in motion, leaving my knees weak, and I fell to the floor. Shocks ran through down my spine, and I knew I would never be the same after seeing those orbs gleaming in the night-holding an encircling passion, of nothing I had ever seen or known. My world had been broken that night, yet repaired in insanity. Tears raining down my cheeks; I let them fall, and your gaze never wavered. 

My world was no longer grey. No, it had color- it had life- it had you, and I would never been the same. The shadows could consume me on the spot and all I would long for is those eyes to flicker against my own again.

I never wanted those holders of passion to leave mine. A fire had begun to grow in the corners of my soul at the sight-and I let the embers wash over me. 

You changed my world, and I would never be the same.


End file.
